


Taking Care

by Bisexualtrashlord



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Comfort with No Hurt, Fluff, Hot 18th Century Aristocracy Gossip, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 09:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14210124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bisexualtrashlord/pseuds/Bisexualtrashlord
Summary: James McGraw is coming back from sea after the hardest five months the Navy ever had. The only way to cure that stress is a hot meal, a hot bath, and lots of love.





	Taking Care

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! It's been a while since I posted anything, sorry! But I'm back, and I'm really quite proud of this one. I love, love, LOVE writing Intimacy stuff, and these sweet boys are the perfect outlet in which to do that. Please enjoy! Leave a comment and tell me what you think!

Thomas paced back and forth in this study, making furtive glances outside the window every minute. He knew that was in vain, for the rain was so harsh that it came down in sheets, making it impossible to see a few feet out the window. It was growing dark, and the night was especially cold; the last lingers of winter producing bitter chills. He stopped in the middle of the room, trying fruitlessly to take a deep breath to calm him, only to have it come out choppy. Thomas was anxious, not in the way he was when he had to deliver a speech to Whitehall or have a meeting with his father—he was scared.

James was coming home today.

This thought usually does not fill him with fear—quite the opposite. The thought of spending time with James fills Thomas with a sense of calm that he could not describe. The very presence of the man can turn his fears and anxiousness with serenity in seconds. No, he was not scared of him coming home, he feared the condition he might be in.

James’s latest letter from the sea told stories of illness and low morale, of infighting and talks of mutiny. Thomas knows that James is strong and resolute, resourceful and strong even in the hardest of times; but the those of his love being amongst terrible conditions made his heart sink. Thomas always found it hard to breathe when James went to sea; imagining him at sea in such terrible conditions felt like his lungs were ripped from him.

The sound of a heavy wooden door opening and closing echoed through the house, and the sound of clacking shoes against marble made his heart beat quicken. As the steps grew closer, Thomas turned around and walked to his sitting room connected to his study. The servant just rounded the corner with James in toe.

“Lieutenant James McGraw, My Lord,” the servant announced, letting James walk past him.

“T-thank you,” Thomas choked, not taking his eyes off James. The servant bowed and made his retreat, leaving both men alone.

James was the first one to move, slowly walking deeper into the room. Thomas was frozen where he stood, not believing the sight before him.

James appeared the same, perhaps with paler skin and deeper bags under his eyes. But he did not look sickly or starved or had visible bruises from possible fights on the ship.

He was okay.  _He was okay._

“Thomas, it–”

Thomas launched himself at James, throwing his arms around him and pulling him close. James did the same, resting his arms around Thomas’s shoulders, soft, rich silk under his hands. Thomas buried his face in James’s shoulder, inhaling the salt air that clung to his uniform.

“I missed you so much,” Thomas croaked, running his hands up and down his back.

“I missed you too,” James said, fiddling with the hair at the back of Thomas’s neck.

Thomas pulled away to look at James, reaching out to caress his cheek. “When you sent your letter it…I thought…I didn’t know…I was so worried about you,” Thomas croaked, raking his eyes over any bit of skin he could see to check for bruises and scars.

“It’s okay, Thomas; no one hurt me, I’m alright,” James said, following Thomas’s eye movements.

Thomas breathed a sigh of relief at James’s reassurance, that didn’t mean he didn’t have to be careful around him.

“I don’t want to talk about anything related to business tonight. Forget Whitehall, forget Nassau, just for a night. I’ve been told that dinner will be ready soon, and then I plan to have a bath drawn, and–”

“Thomas, there’s no need—”

“Nonsense. You’ve been gone five months in dreadful conditions, and I would be insulting the concept of a host and lover, if I did not give you the welcome you deserve. Please, let me do this for you,” Thomas pleaded, a solid grip on James’s shoulders.

James searched Thomas’s eyes, and found fondness and dedication. In those eyes, he did not see obligation or duty, but a true longing and want to do this for him.

“Alright,” James said.

James and Thomas held hands through the house until they could be seen by the servants, who led them to one of the smaller dining rooms. Over perfectly cooked venison, James felt the tension in his body lessen with each laugh he huffed out as Thomas relayed him the last gossip from London’s aristocracy.

“I heard that Lord Warwick was caught having a tryst with one of the visiting Italian duchesses the other day. Apparently, one of his maids found them in his study with his hand under her skirt,” Thomas said mischievously.

“How did you find out?” James asked with a smirk.

“The Earl Davies told me one evening before he left the house.”

“From what you’ve told me of him, he is a terrible liar. I would avoid repeating what he says.”

Thomas chuckled, “Oh, I know everything he says is complete tripe. The concept was just so funny I had to tell you. Trust me, James, if I were to ever keep a rumor going, I would get me facts straight.” Thomas took a hearty sip of his wine while James barked a laugh.

When they moved upstairs, a large copper tub sat in the middle of the room. James watched as a servant filled up the last bit of it with steaming water, and another servant appeared with a tray of bottles,

“Thank you. Leave us, please,” Thomas said, nodding to the servants to give them privacy, closing the door behind them.

“May I help you undress?” Thomas asked softly.

James’s breath hitched, despite himself. “Only if you like seeing the bruised body of a man of the sea. I’d rather spare your proper eyes the sight,” James said, nervousness seeping in his voice.

“I’ve seen my fair share of your body, and it is my favorite one, you know that. If you would rather me not I will give you your space.”

“I’ve quite missed your hands on me,” James said, taken aback by his own boldness.

Thomas’s lips curled to a smirk, “have you? Then I’ll not make you wait another second.” He walked closer to the tub and extended his hand. James took it after a moment’s hesitation, letting Thomas gently pull him to the middle of the room.

Silently, Thomas fell to his knees and began to slide James’s feet out of his boots James felt his pulse quicken against his neck.

“What are–”

“Shhh…If I am to do this, I want to do it right,” Thomas murmured, guiding James’s feet out of his shoes.

He rose to his feet and instructed James to turn so he could take off his Navy coat, smiling that the heavy garment was off his shoulders, the transition from business to pleasure finally coming to light. The two were silent, the only sounds of the swish and swipes of fabric and James trying to control his labored breathing. They have been together like this before for months, with the two seeing and sharing their bodies together. But no matter how many times they see each other, touch each other, James will never get over the sheer, raw, intimacy of it all.

Everything on the top having been removed, Thomas turned to allow James to take off his trousers, taking the time shuck off his petticoat and cotton shirt as well, along with his shoes. James allowed Thomas to help him in the tub, hissing at the hot water.

He sank into the tub until he was sitting, his hissing having been replace by a deep sigh as the heat seeped into his bones after experiencing nothing but bitter chill for five months.

“Is the water alright?” Thomas asked as he took some bottles from the tray.

“I never wish to leave this tub,” James said, making Thomas chuckle.

“I’m glad, that means it’s doing this job. The bath is but a ruse to make sure you never leave London again.” Thomas busied himself by pouring drops of oil into the water, filling the room with lavender scents.

“You’re very close to convincing me to stay,” James hummed. Thomas foamed a bar of soap from the tray in the water, running it over James’s back and shoulders in slow circles. He smiled at the content look on James’s face, eyes fluttered closed and smooth brows, a look he has only seen from the man while sleeping. He moved from his back to his chest, making a mental note to recount the freckles he saw there the next chance he got, for surely more have made a home on James’s body. At the slow speed Thomas lathered, James cracked an eye open and huffed a laugh that he caught Thomas staring.

“I thought you had a task at hand,” James mumbled, sleepiness beginning to creep in.

“I was, but then a thing of pure beauty distracted me,” Thomas whispered, bringing his face closer to James’s.

Their lips met, starting soft and chaste at first, but quickly deepening when they remembered their lips haven’t met in  _months_. Thomas reached to cup James’s jaw, dropping the soap in the water with a heavy splash.

“God, how I missed this,” James murmured when they parted for air before taking their lips again. Thomas moved his hand from James’s jaw to his collarbone and chest, recoiling when he felt James wince underneath his touch.

“Did I hurt you?” Thomas asked, voice laced with worry. He scanned James’s neck for injuries, gasping softly when he saw a pink, fleshy welt over his heart.

“How did–”

“It was nothing you did. Something I sustained during on of the scuffles on the ship. A rope hit me too fast too close. This isn’t nearly as bad some of the other men.”

“Still…you got hurt,” Thomas whispered, staring at the wound. His fear of James getting hurt was realized.

“Hey,” James murmured, gently tipping Thomas’s chin to look at him.

“I’m here, I made it,” James said, taking Thomas’s hand and placing it over his heart. Thomas let out a shaky breath when he felt his beat under his hand.

“I know…my thoughts get the best of me at times. When you leave I…I cannot think straight until I know you’re back with me. It’s childish but I cannot help it.”

James’s breath hitched. He never had someone worry about him before.

James gripped Thomas’s hand tighter, running his knuckles across it. “I would see your thoughts righted now. I’m here, and I am alright,” he murmured.

“You are, you are, you are, you  _are,_ ” Thomas croaked, like a mantra, bringing their foreheads together.

“I was supposed to take care of you…” Thomas whispered.

“We’ll take care of each other,” James said, brushing their foreheads together.

The water had long gone cold, but neither man noticed, too engrossed in the presence of one another.


End file.
